Miserere

by Caren J. Werlinger

  “Did you have breakfast?”

  “Yes. Cereal and orange juice,” Conn said. “Already washed my dishes.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done to help out lately,” Elizabeth said. “I think I just might keep you.”

  Conn grinned again. “See you later, Mam.”

  “Have fun, and be careful,” Elizabeth called to Conn’s back as she ran, waving, toward Jed.

  “Come with me,” Conn said in an urgent whisper to Jed, and led the way past the barn, doubling back to it once they were out of sight of the house.

  “What’re you doin’?” Jed asked in confusion as he followed Conn.

  “I –” Conn tilted her head as she looked at him properly for the first time. She reached up to pull a few pieces of straw from his hair which was sticking out at odd angles anyway. “You look like you slept in a barn.”

  “Well, that’d be ‘cause I slept in the barn with Jack,” he grinned.

  “How come?”

  “Pa was in a rage last night,” he shrugged. “I haven’t seen him that drunk in a long time.”

  “What was he in a rage about?”

  “Nig –” He cut himself off abruptly. “Uh, colored folks. Old man Hardy hired him to fix some fence, but Pa… well, he got drunk and passed out under one of the trees, and some of the cattle got loose. So, old man Hardy fired my pa and gave the job to Abraham instead.”

  “Oh.” Conn wasn’t sure what to say.

  Jed seemed to read her mind. “It’s not Abraham’s fault. He’ll get the job done right. But… we coulda used the money,” he finished, embarrassed.

  “Oh,” Conn said again.

  “So, what are you doin’?” Jed repeated. “Aren’t we goin’ fishin’?”

  “Not today. Can you keep a secret?”

  Jed nodded, and Conn led him into the lower level of the barn. Standing in the dim early morning light there, she ordered him to raise his right hand.

  “Swear you won’t tell a soul what I’m about to show you, or…” She thought hard. “… or the ghost of this house will haunt you the rest of your days,” she said dramatically.

  Jed’s eyes got big and he looked around, letting his hand lower. “There really is a ghost?” he whispered fearfully.

  “Of course there is,” Conn said. “Now swear.”

  His hand trembled a bit as he raised it again. “I swear,” he croaked.

  His mouth fell open as Conn opened the trapdoor.

  “Climb down the ladder and wait for me at the bottom,” she said. When he had descended, she started down, pausing to grasp the trapdoor and pull it shut over top of them.

  When she reached the bottom of the ladder, she dug into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a wooden match. She scraped it against the ladder and it flared with a hiss, lighting the absolute darkness of the tunnel. She handed the match to Jed and retrieved the bag she had hidden earlier. She quickly pulled out a candle and lit it before the match burnt down to Jed’s fingertips.

  “Here,” she said, handing him the candle while she squatted down and carefully filled the oil lamp she had bought. After igniting it and adjusting the wick, she reached yet again into her bag and pulled out the box of chalk, handing Jed a piece and pocketing one herself.

  “What is this place?” Jed asked in awe as he looked around.

  “That’s what we’re going to find out,” Conn said as she stood. “Come on.”

  She led the way down the right hand fork of the tunnel. With the oil lamp casting broader light, she could see other fissures that looked as if they might be additional tunnels. Seeing one that looked a little larger than the others, she paused. “Let’s see where this goes.”

  She stepped into the fissure and could immediately tell that its walls and floor were more jagged and narrow than the tunnel they had just left. She took her chalk and drew an arrow on the wall, pointing back the way they had come. Inching forward, she could hear Jed’s nervous breathing behind her. She held the oil lamp high, trying to see the roof of the fissure when Jed suddenly grabbed her by the shirt, pulling her backwards.

  “What?” she asked, startled.

  “Look,” he said, pointing.

  Just in front of Conn was blackness. Kneeling down and adjusting the position of the lamp, she saw that she had been about to step into a chasm about six feet wide, her light unable to penetrate its depths.

  “Thanks,” she said shakily.

  “Let’s go back,” Jed suggested. “We can’t get across that nohow.”

  They retraced their steps to the main tunnel and continued along it. This tunnel seemed to Conn to go on longer than the one that ended near the slave cabin. They noted other smaller tunnels branching off, but Jed said, “Let’s stick with this one.”

  The tunnel veered sharply to the right and they suddenly came upon a wall of rock and dirt.

  “It caved in,” Conn said, holding the oil lamp high to examine the impasse. As far as she could tell, the rubble looked solid all the way to the roof of the tunnel, with no openings or pockets that they could squeeze through.

  Jed reached out and pushed at some of the rocks and dirt. It all felt solid, compacted. “This happened a long time ago,” he said.

  Conn felt a sudden rage so strong it made her dizzy. Gasping, she reached out to the wall to support herself. The air around them became chilled enough that she could see her breath. She looked around, but didn’t see anything.

  “Are you all right?” Jed asked, looking around nervously.

  Conn leaned against the wall, trying to slow her heart. “I’m fine.”

  “How did you know all this was down here?” Jed demanded.

  She quickly considered how much to tell him. “I found the trap door in the barn,” she said, deciding to tell part of the truth. “I haven’t had a chance to really explore. I don’t want to worry my mother. She’s had enough to worry about lately.” She turned to him. “Remember, you swore you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “I know I did,” he said defensively. “But why are these tunnels here?”

  “I don’t know,” Conn admitted. She turned from the cave-in with a sigh. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

  Their trip back to the ladder was uneventful.

  “Where does that one go?” Jed asked, indicating the left-hand tunnel.

  Making her mind up quickly, Conn said, “Meet me at the old slave cabin tomorrow morning at eight, okay?”

  CHAPTER 15

  Conn and Jed spent the following day exploring some of the other cracks and tunnels that branched off the cavern she’d discovered near the slave cabin. Jed was flabbergasted when she led him up the rocks and into the opening in the rock face.

  “This is where that other tunnel under our barn comes out,” she said, holding a candle aloft and finding her sock where she’d left it to mark that tunnel.

  Jed let out a low whistle as he looked around. “Where do these others go?” he asked.

  “That’s what we’re going to find out,” Conn said, kneeling to light the oil lamp.

  Most of the fissures were dead ends, or got too narrow to safely squeeze through. Those she marked with a big X on the cavern wall with her chalk. The seventh or eighth opening they explored unexpectedly opened up, becoming wide enough for them to walk side by side and high enough that Abraham could have walked in it without stooping. They followed it, Jed holding the oil lamp as Conn marked the walls every few yards to indicate the direction they’d come from. After they’d walked for what felt like fifteen or twenty minutes, they could hear a strange sound. The tunnel ended abruptly at a waterfall. They could see daylight on the other side of the cascading water. There was a narrow, slippery ledge of stone that allowed them to shuffle sideways behind the sheeting water.

  They looked around as they emerged into sunlight, trying to get their bearings.

  “This is where I first saw you fishin’,” Jed exclaimed. “You and Will were over there,” he said, pointing.

  “You’
re right,” Conn realized. She turned and looked at the rocks above them. “You were up there.

  “If you knew about these tunnels,” she said, looking around, “you could get all around this area without anyone seeing you.” She began picking her way down the rocks. “We’ve done enough exploring for today. Let’s go back to my house. I’m starving.”

  “Me, too,” Jed said, rubbing his belly.

  They ambled back to the house, speculating as to the purpose of the tunnels. “Remember,” Conn said as they deposited the oil lamp in the barn and she retrieved her fishing rod, “my mom thinks we’ve been fishing.”

  As they rounded the barn, they were surprised to see Abraham’s truck parked near the house. Hurrying into the kitchen, Conn stopped so abruptly that Jed ran into her.

  “Will!” she said in surprise.

  “Mom said I can come downstairs,” he said happily. He looked very pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

  “Hello, Connemara, Jedediah,” said Abraham from where he was seated next to Will at the table.

  “Hi, Mr. Greene,” Conn said enthusiastically. Jed mumbled a hello, and followed Conn to the sink to wash.

  “Did you two work up an appetite?” Elizabeth asked as she opened the refrigerator.

  “We sure did,” Conn said, grinning at Jed.

  As they sat down to lunch, Conn asked Abraham, “Are you here to fix something?”

  “No,” Abraham smiled. “As a matter of fact, I was looking for Jedediah and thought I might find him here.”

  Jed’s pale blue eyes narrowed warily. “What’d I do?”

  Abraham chuckled. “You’re not in trouble,” he said, taking a bite of potato salad. “I’ve taken on a few jobs that are turning out to be bigger than I anticipated, and I wondered if you would be interested in becoming my helper?”

  Jed stared at him, mouth hanging open. “Me, work for you?”

  Conn’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them as she chewed her sandwich. She knew Jed was wondering what his father would say about this.

  Abraham nodded. “I could teach you and you would be helping me. I’ll pay you a fair wage.” He looked at Jed, weighing his next words. “I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but if you accept, it might be best if you use your pay to bring home groceries or whatever you need, rather than bringing cash home.”

  Jed swallowed, looking at him shrewdly. “You mean my pa.”

  Abraham inclined his head a bit. “He’s a proud man, but… he’s got some problems.”

  Jed thought for a moment. “And this ain’t charity?”

  “Absolutely not,” Abraham said emphatically. “This is business. I can get more done if I have some help, and you can learn a trade you’ll be able to draw upon your whole life if you want to.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

  Conn doubted Jed had ever shaken hands with a black man in his life, so she was a little surprised when Jed accepted his hand and said, “Deal.”

  “Very well,” said Abraham. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Mr. Hardy’s east pasture at eight o’clock sharp.”

  Jed grinned. “See you tomorrow, Ab – I mean, Mr. Greene.” He finished his sandwich and carried his dishes to the sink. “I better be goin’.”

  “And I as well,” Abraham echoed as he also carried his dishes to the sink. “Thank you for lunch, Mrs. Mitchell. William, I hope you are up and around in no time.” He looked down at Conn and said, “Connemara, would you walk me to my truck, please?”

  Puzzled, Conn accompanied him outside.

  “So, you and Jedediah spent the morning fishing, your mother said.”

  “Yes,” Conn said uncomfortably.

  Abraham nodded. “Interesting that when I passed Jedediah this morning, he didn’t have a fishing rod with him and he wasn’t headed toward the creek.”

  Conn’s face turned red, but she didn’t say anything.

  “I trust,” said Abraham quietly, “that you would not do anything to cause your mother more worry or heartache than she is already dealing with.”

  Conn looked up at him, wishing she could blurt out everything. “Not if I could help it,” she said cryptically.

  Abraham frowned. “Are you all right? Are you in any kind of trouble?”

  Conn opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before saying only, “I’m fine.”

  Abraham looked intently into her eyes for several seconds. “Very well. But if you need help – anytime – you can come to me.”

  Conn nodded and stepped back as he drove away.

  ***

  Conn splashed in the tub, mounding up what remained of her bubbles. There was a knock on the door.

  “Got your hair all washed?” Elizabeth said as she entered. “Ready to have your back scrubbed?”

  “Yup,” Conn said.

  Elizabeth knelt next to the bathtub. “So, you and Jed seem to be getting along well,” she said as she soaped up a washcloth.

  “Yeah.”

  “He seems like a nice boy.”

  “He is, deep down,” Conn agreed. “I feel sorry for him. His dad sounds pretty mean.”

  Elizabeth began rubbing the soapy cloth over Conn’s back. “Well, when people drink, they–”

  Elizabeth dropped the soap and quickly sluiced the suds off her daughter’s back. “What happened to you?”

  “What?” Conn asked, craning her head to try and see what her mother was referring to.

  Elizabeth ran her hands over Conn’s back. “You have welts all over. I can feel them; they’re not red, they look old, but… where did you get these?”

  “I don’t know,” Conn said, bewildered.

  “It looks like someone whipped you,” Elizabeth said angrily. “Look at me.”

  Conn looked up into her mother’s eyes.

  “How did you get these?”

  “I really don’t know,” Conn said truthfully.

  Elizabeth stared intently into Conn’s eyes for several seconds.

  “Maybe I got scratched by some sticker bushes in the woods,” Conn suggested.

  “Any sticker bushes that could leave marks like this would have torn your shirt to shreds,” Elizabeth insisted.

  Conn reached back, trying to run her own fingers over the welts she could now feel. They were vaguely tender, like a scar that’s still healing. Suddenly, an image came to her of a supple branch being lashed repeatedly across her back – except it hadn’t happened to her. It had happened to Caitríona.

  Elizabeth’s voice was strained as she asked, “Conn, has Mr. Greene ever –”

  “No!” Conn swirled around in the tub so quickly that water sloshed over the sides. “Mom, no.”

  She couldn’t have her mother thinking anything so terrible. “I really don’t know what I got into, but you know me. You used to tell me I could get scabbed up just getting out of bed. I’ve been all through these woods. It could have been anything. But Mr. Greene has never laid a finger on me.”

  Elizabeth’s brown eyes softened and she smiled a little sheepishly. “All right. But you would tell me if anyone was hurting you, right?”

  “Yes,” Conn said, her fingers crossed under the suds.

  CHAPTER 16

  “I’m bored.”

  Now that Will was feeling a little better, he was chafing more at being confined to the house.

  “You were very, very sick,” Elizabeth reminded him. “And you’re not completely better yet.”

  Outside, the sky had let loose with a steady rain that was forecasted to last for a few days, bringing an unseasonable chill to the air for mid-June.

  Elizabeth was opening cupboard doors and checking the pantry as the children ate breakfast. “I hadn’t realized how low we are on everything,” she said. “Tell you what, if you two will stay here and keep each other entertained, I’ll bring you each back a surprise.”

  Will brightened at that. Conn nodded, understanding “keep each other entertained” to mean that she was to keep Will entertained. />
  “Under no circumstances are you to go out in this rain, young man,” Elizabeth warned as she donned a raincoat and gathered her purse and car keys. “All we need is for you to get sick again.”

  As the Nomad splashed away through the muddy puddles in the drive, Conn turned to Will and said, “How about a ghost story?”

  Will nodded, looking equal parts scared and excited. Conn collected a flashlight from a kitchen drawer, and together, she and Will spread a couple of sheets over the dining room table so that they hung down to the floor, enclosing them in a tent.

  “Now,” said Conn in a dramatic whisper, the flashlight illuminating them from below and casting spooky shadows over their features, “once upon a time, two sisters lived with their family in Ireland…”

  By the time Elizabeth got home, Will was completely engrossed in Conn’s story of Caitríona and Orla.

  “Mom!” he shouted as they heard her enter the kitchen. He scrambled out from their tent.

  “What in the world have you two been doing?” Elizabeth laughed as she saw what they had done to her dining room.

  “Telling ghost stories!” Will said excitedly. “Conn’s been telling me more about Caitríona Ní Faolain and her sister.”

  Elizabeth glanced curiously at her daughter as she set a box of groceries on the kitchen counter. “Like what?”

  “Like how their dad sold them and how they almost died on the boat,” blurted Will.

  “And how do you know these things?” Elizabeth asked, turning back to her groceries.

  Conn shrugged. “I guess I dreamed them,” she said nonchalantly. “I’ll get the rest of the groceries,” she volunteered as Will launched into a recap of his sister’s tale.

  When she came back in, letting the screen door slap shut behind her, Elizabeth was still listening to Will. She turned and looked at Conn with a curious expression, and Conn knew that the stories were stirring something deep within her mother’s memory.

  “What’s our surprise?” Will asked, interrupting the moment.

  Elizabeth blinked. “Oh yes, your surprise.” She pulled a new Hardy Boys mystery out of the box and handed it to Will. “Here you go,” she said. “This might be a little hard for you to read, but I think you’ll enjoy it.” Then she turned to Conn and held out a book with a plain black cover. “I know you like to read,” she said, “but I thought you might like to start keeping a journal.”